


Lights Out

by sharedwithyou



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types, Thor (Movies), Thor - All Media Types
Genre: Angstangstangst, Dark, Dark reader, F/M, Heavy Angst, Psychological Horror, Triggers, possible trigger
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 13:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10832019
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sharedwithyou/pseuds/sharedwithyou
Summary: Warning: Major Character Death/Possible Triggers“Did you miss me?”“You know I do.”“I’d say the five cups of coffee you drank earlier would beg to differ.”“Don’t be like this.”You scoffed at his words, and he cringed. Waiting for you to strike out at him, to spit poison in his face. Anything to quench that silver tongue of his.But it was never his tongue you took exception to.





	Lights Out

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Wolfsmaedchen](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsmaedchen/gifts).



> Dedicated to the lovely Wolfsmaedchen, who's supported me all the way, even when I write dark shit.
> 
> Speaking of which, this is dark. Possible psychological/death triggers. Sort of Dark Reader. Worth the read if you can stomach a bit of darkness. Mainly Angst.
> 
> Hope you enjoy lovelies!! Thanks for being there for me!
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Mindfucker

“You do you, love. And I’ll fall asleep with the lights on.”

He held on to the words as long as he could as he fought slumber.

You always found him in dreamland.

~~~~~

“Did you miss me?”

“You know I do.”

“I’d say the five cups of coffee you drank earlier would beg to differ.”

“Don’t be like this.”

You scoffed at his words, and he cringed. Waiting for you to strike out at him, to spit poison in his face. Anything to quench that silver tongue of his.

But it was never his tongue you took exception to.

 

“How do I look today?”

“Beautiful.” It was the same answer, every day. Or was it every night? You never held a knife to his throat for this; maybe because it was never a lie. Sweet words were his forte, but anything pertaining to the physical, appearance or otherwise, were never twisted.

Maybe he had some sort of integrity left in him.

Maybe his darkness took over even his namesake. If lies could hurt, then his truths would too.

“I had some minor imperfections taken care of today. I believe my cheeks are a shade of peach this time. Not rouge like some kind of tramp.”

He wanted to close his eyes, but it was a hopeless cause. You were a bit of a fan for irony. He closed his eyes in the evenings to escape the present; so you chose to haunt him in his dreams.

He couldn’t escape this until the morning light. 

Even Gods must sleep.

“Your skin is quite pale.” He was careful to word it as solely an observation.

“Is it?” You tilted your head at him, and he bit his cheek, hard. He wouldn’t let you get to him like this. “I always thought you liked your women like this. Like porcelain dolls. Cherished for a moment. Then collecting dust in glass curios when you were bored of them.”

“Not so.” Even his arguments were hard to voice. Like the air was thick, swirling into his lungs, choking him.

These dreams; these nightmares; they were more death than life.

Irony.

“Of course, they would shape right up when you gave them a second glance, wouldn’t they?”

“(y/n).” Every time he spoke your name, it was heavy. Weighed down in the ethereal by what happened in reality.

“Your lovely collection; forgotten for the millionth time. But never completely out of mind. Always at your disposal when you felt inclined.”

“You were not a trophy, (y/n).”

“No.” You nodded in agreement, watching his tense face relax for a moment.

“Trophies stay on the shelf. But I didn’t, did I?”

“Please.” He had always said it was unbecoming to beg. To plead for him to stay in bed just a while longer. To ask him to come home the very next day. But the tables were quite turned now, weren’t they?

“No, I didn’t.”

And you smiled. Your painted pink lips cracked a wide smile, and the sound of breaking followed.

 

“No,” he whispered. Too terror-struck to speak any louder.

“I held on to that ring for as long as I could, baby.”

“…” his breath was stuck in his throat now, as a cloying sweetness reached his nose. Perfume. 

Mixed scents, florals and musks. Citrus and rose. 

All the different smells to his hearts content. Only at once.

“But you know how things lose their efficacy when neglected.”

He brought his slender fingers to his nose, afraid of a rotting stench permeating his very breath. But there was no such thing.

“A spear, tarnished without a battlefield. A marionette, tangled or faded among its strings.”

“A muscle, atrophied without use.” He spoke the words on your lips. As if even in his mind, among his own thoughts, you were pressing in. As if his subconscious once had its own will; and you were bending it slowly; contorting it with your presence.

You only knew this twisted love.

 

“So it finally slipped from my fingers.”

The heavy gold band, perhaps made for a woman less frail than you, had succumbed to the natural forces.

The gravity, pulling it towards the ground. The strength of your hand, fading. The promise of time, slipping from your finger.

It would have been just perfect if the clanging of a shattered token had brought him to the chambers.

To find you.

 

As it were, he had, soon enough.

Almost as you looked now. 

“Tell me, lover. How it looked with my less-than-swanlike neck at an angle?”

“Please don’t.” His fists were clenched; so much that the crescents digging into his palms almost drew blood.

“With my tired, bloodshot eyes no longer watching you, crowding you in?”

“With my once well-nourished, or too-well-fed body dangling like a thin petal, floating in the breeze?”

“I’m sorry.” At last, the words would come. Was it because he knew an apology would not satisfy until you had shown him again, what you had become? What he had done to you.

It must be; 

For the last pardon he had been late to ask for… let’s just say the woman had already left the building.

Perhaps he had learned, the Prince. What it was to repent; before it was too late.

 

And it was getting late now. Late for you. Early perhaps for him.

“Our time draws to an end, my dear.” Your once vacant eyes had a glint now; as full of life as could be.

“It does.”

Your figure was splendid; perhaps to the exact proportions he found most pleasing. 

Your fingers, healthy and animated, beckoning him.

To come, come to the darkness.

For once you had been lost in the abyss; he had started towards the light.

So here you were, full circle, two sides of a proverbial coin; both opposite and the same. 

 

The symbol of a dirty love; the noose braided ever so carefully around your neck.

This is irony, My Lord. When I took my life, yours began. When I was pulled into the shadows; you started toward the sun. When I slid the ring from my fingers, the betrayal was over. 

When I tied the rope around my neck, our forever came true.

“Is this what you wanted, lovely?”

“You know it isn’t.” His voice rose slightly; almost ready to fight once again, like had long ago.

“I could leave…” you toyed with your locks, no longer mussed to his disapproval.

“You could.”

“If that is what you wish.” Your eyes lost their wickedness, their mischief with the last word. Your downcast eyes filled with a sorrow of many years. You bit your painted lips; your sneer replaced with an unsure, insecure false-smile.

“No.” And that was the inevitable conclusion, the tale of irony; that you would torment him in death as he had you in life. That the debts he owed you in the day, he would pay in the night. 

That this dirty, dirty love could only be cleansed with blood. 

 

You were reaching towards him now, as your body began receding from his vision.

And despite everything, he leaned forward, trying to pull you back.

But there was no physical embrace in here.

The only things that touched, were the dark of your souls and the light of a new day at once obscuring and illuminating you as you were drawn away from him.

And as he felt his lids start to flutter, and your visage flickered out of focus, he remembered the words you had spoken the night before you killed yourself. 

“You do you, love. And I’ll fall asleep with the lights on.”

Because you had stayed up so long waiting for him to come back, because the demons of his indiscretions visited you when the candles dimmed.

 

Because when you closed your eyes for the last time, you wanted him to see the bitter mess he had made. 

 

And every night now, with the lights beaming in his face, he would wait to lose control so he could see you again.

His fallen angel.

**Author's Note:**

> A;LDKJFA;LSDKFJ;LKDSJF
> 
> leave me a comment!!
> 
> Random Ramblings:  
> Quick Poll 1: which line broke you?
> 
> mine is probably  
> But there was no physical embrace in here.  
> The only things that touched, were the dark of your souls and the light of a new day at once obscuring and illuminating you as you were drawn away from him.
> 
> basically you were engaged to loki but he kept hurting and cheating on you, so finally you hung yourself. but you haunt him every night in his dreams. well, nightmares i guess.
> 
> So he tries to stay up as long as he can, the way you used to stay up waiting for him.  
> in the end, though, as much as he suffers when he's asleep because he has to see you and be reminded of his mistakes, and because he sees you beautiful but with the noose around your neck, he still asks you not to leave his dreams.
> 
> because then you'd be gone forever. because your love is twisted, and neither of you can let go of each other.
> 
> also, once you entered the darkness, he turned to the light; once you died he became sort of a better man. too bad it was too late.
> 
> THE ANGST. oh how i love irony and angst.
> 
> OK I'M STILL SORRY THOUGH. I WAS PROOFREADING THIS AND FELT BAD BECAUSE IT'S SO HEART BREAKINGLY DARK AND SAD.
> 
> i'll write something happier soon, i promise. probably not that much happier, but definitely not this depressing.
> 
> thanks for encouraging me wolf, and all my other lovelies.
> 
> XOXO Bucky the Angstmaster


End file.
